Problems
by Satan Abraham
Summary: The Island is a camp for kids. More specifically, kids with problems. This year there are nine boys, ranging in ages from eleven to sixteen. Hipster Jack, Disturbed boy Roger, Affection Man - uh, Maurice, that cool guy with the sunglasses, the kid that keeps fainting... and a few more that aren't important. Can Mr. Flies, the camp director, handle them?
1. The Arrival

Jack Merridew was scrolling through his iPod, looking for something good to listen to. Something that, if people asked him what he was listening to, they'd have to say 'what?' after he answered.

Something like Sons of an Illustrious Father.

Unfortunately, just as he touched 'shuffle', they appeared at the camp. Jack decided that the 'no electronics' rule didn't matter, and he could just listen to his iPod anyway, because he was Jack Merridew and he didn't need rules.

His family's driver carried Jack's luggage to their cabin as Jack leaned against the car, sipping his Starbucks coffee and listening to his music.

"And you are…?"

Jack looked up. A positively pig-looking man was standing in front of him, holding a clipboard.

"Merridew," Jack said promptly, taking another drink of his latte. He nearly fell over as the driver drove away. "How many times do I have to tell him to not drive away until I'm not leaning on the thing?"

"I'm Mr. Flies," the pig-like man said. "Let's see… Jack Merridew. Ah, your parents are not happy about your sexuality. We can fix that. You should go get unpacked."

Jack rolled his eyes and entered the cabin. It was actually pretty big; it had to be, to fit the five bunk beds and three dressers. Deciding that he was alone, he set up his iPod dock and began to blast his music out loud.

A few minutes later, another boy entered. He was wearing all black, his shirt one of those band shirts from Hot Topic – a Disturbed one. It nearly went down to his knees.

"Turn it down or put something better on," the boy said, dropping his backpack on the bottom bunk in the corner of the room. Jack was still trying to figure out if he was twelve or just really short when another one entered.

"Affection Man has arrived!" he cheered, swinging his suitcase onto the bunk on top of Disturbed boy's bed. "Or, you know, Maurice. That's my actual name."

"I'm Jack Merridew," Jack said. Maurice grinned at him.

"I'll call you Hipster Jack-"

_"I am not a hipster."_

"And who're you? Do you like scary movies, y'know, 'cause your shirt looks like you might like things like scary movies. I brought a bunch of old Stephen King movies. Like, The Shining and Carrie and Christine and IT and 'Salem's Lot and even The Stand miniseries and-"

"Roger," Disturbed boy said, effectively shutting up Maurice. "And I've never seen a Stephen King movie."

"Really? Who hasn't seen a Stephen King movie? I started watching Stephen King movies when I was like seven. Before that I watched those old Goosebumps movies – Werewolf of Fever Swamp and stuff like that," Maurice took a breath. "I've got 'em all on DVD. And I brought a portable DVD player. So we can watch some."

Disturbed boy – uh, Roger, rolled his eyes.

* * *

Simon Drake was nervous.

He'd kind of agreed with his parents when they'd decided that he needed to go to the camp for kids with problems. Sometimes he hallucinated. Stuff like that. But Simon was extremely shy. He wasn't good at making friends.

He clutched his backpack to his chest, biting his lip and staring at the back of his father's seat. He'd be fine. He could do this. After all, everyone else would be messed up too, right? Right. Probably.

"We're here!"

Simon swallowed and got out of the car. A piggish man was looking at him –

This man was pure evil.

Simon paled and stifled a scream. He managed to stop shaking and hoped that he wouldn't faint.

Of course, if he did, he might be able to go home.

"You are?"

"Si-simon Drake," Simon said. Eventually he was able to go into the cabin. There were already three more boys in there, and really weird music playing.

One of the boys dropped from a top bunk and bounded over. "Hi! I'm Maurice. That's Jack, yeah, the hipster-"

_"I am not a hipster."_

"And the creepy-looking one is Roger," Maurice finished, grinning. Simon put his bag on the bottom bunk of the bed nearest to the door.

"I'm Simon," he said, smiling and sitting down on his bed.

It was silent, until the unmistakable noise of a motorcycle made them all jump. A few minutes later a tall, muscled boy wearing sunglasses, jeans, and a short-sleeved button-up shirt entered the room. He glanced around at all of them, picked a bed at random, and began to text. He ignored Maurice's 'what's your name?'

The next boy that came in took Simon's breath away. He was tall and muscled like the boy that had just entered, and he had blond hair, but he was… he was just…

Simon fainted.

* * *

As soon as Ralph walked into the cabin, the boy nearest to him fainted. After the initial stare, he poked the boy. "He's breathing," he said. "I think."

The boy in the 'Overlook Hotel' shirt grinned. "Cool. That's Simon. I'm Maurice. That's Hipster Jack over there-"

_"I am not a hipster."_

"And creepy Disturbed boy is Roger. And I don't know who the kid texting is. Or how he can text that quickly while wearing sunglasses inside," Maurice mused. "But, anyway. Hi."

"I'm Ralph," Ralph said. He was going to say more, but then a rather small, ugly child walked in.

"Percival Wemys Madison…" he went on to recite his address and telephone number. Everyone looked at him. He claimed the top bunk across from Simon. Ralph decided to go on the bunk above 'Hipster Jack.' Hipster Jack seemed like a pretty cool person, except for the really weird music he was blasting from his iPod.

It was silent for a while – apart from the wird music – until the last boy arrived.

"And make sure that you get enough to eat."

"I will."

A very fat boy wearing glasses waddled in. "That was my Auntie," he said, sitting on the bottom bunk of Percival Wemys Madison's bed. He set down his duffel bag. "She owns a candy shop."

Jack glanced up from the classic literature he'd procured from his bag and snorted. "It's not like we couldn't tell, Fatty."

"Fatty's not a nice name! Let's call him Piggy," Maurice suggested, hanging upside-down from the top rung of the ladder on his bed. "Piggy's a nice name."

Simon became conscious again at this moment. "New people," he said. "Who are you?"

"That's Piggy!"

Simon didn't have to ask which one was Piggy.

"I'm Robert," a small, boring-looking boy said. Everybody looked at him, shocked. Ralph didn't remember this boy coming in.

"Percival Wemys Madison…"

Mr. Flies walked in. "Oh, I guess I'll have to sleep on this top bunk," he said, setting his clipboard on the bunk above Simon.

Simon fainted again.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed. Cx I rather liked writing it, so...**

**Anyway, this is a Modern Day AU. I've given them all last names and such. And stuff like that. Except Piggy. Piggy's just Piggy.**


	2. The Problems

After Simon had finished being unconscious, Mr. Flies started the real horror of the trip.

Mr. Flies glanced at his clipboard. "Okay. My personal experience with this sort of thing is that boys tend to do better when there are _incentives_. We'll start at the top of the list. Jack Merridew."

Jack glanced up from that classic novel. Roger noticed that he was at the exact same place he'd been at thirty minutes ago. "What?"

"Now, your parents' reasoning for you being here is, and I quote, 'HE LIKES BOYS! HE CAN'T BE A MERRIDEW!'"

Jack turned red.

"And for your incentive…" Mr. Flies walked over and grabbed Jack's iPod off of the dock. Jack made a noise like a dying whale and said something about 'you can't just yank it off like that you have to be more _careful.' _"You might get this back some day."

"Roger Dressler! You… tried to kill your mother? Multiple times?"

Roger shrugged. "Yeah."

"Give me the shirt."

Roger pulled his shirt off and handed it over. Simon fainted. Roger dug through his bag until he came up with an Apocalyptica shirt.

"And that one."

Then Papa Roach.

"That one too."

Rise Against?

"Just give me all of your shirts!"

Eventually Roger sat on his bed, shirtless and scowling. Simon got used to shirtless Roger and stopped being unconscious. Maurice giggled. Life moved on.

"Maurice Machintire… you call yourself Affection Man?"

Maurice nodded and grinned. He was currently hugging Roger. Roger was having a hard time holding back his inner rage. Mr. Flies sighed.

"Okay then. And you jumped off a roof?"

"I wanted to fly," Maurice said. "I can't fly."

Jack scoffed something that sounded like, 'idiot.'

"I'll need all of your Stephen King movies."

"No!" Maurice gasped.

"Yes."

"You'll have to catch me first!" With that, Maurice grabbed the bag that presumably held the Stephen King movies and ran out the door. Mr. Flies followed.

The rest of the cabin looked at each other for a few moments and then exited the room.

Maurice was up in a tree, clutching his bag and _meowing _at the man. He looked over at his cabinmates and waved. Then he went back to meowing.

There was a collective facepalm.

* * *

Simon hadn't gone out with the others, but soon they came back in, a sulking, meowing Maurice in tow. At least he still had his shirt, unlike Roger. He'd just lost a bunch of movies. Movies technically weren't needed.

"Now. On with the show," Mr. Flies said. "Simon Drake 'keeps having hallucinations about dead pigs and babbles about human nature for ages afterward.' What do you have…"

Simon hoped Mr. Flies didn't see his (fake) pet lizard.

Mr. Flies saw the (fake) pet lizard.

"We'll take this fake pet lizard here," he decided, holding it by the tail. He dropped it into the large garbage bag that held all of the other stuff he'd confiscated. Jack winced at the sound of multiple Stephen King movies rolling over his iPod. Maybe he should've gotten the Classic.

The cool guy in the sunglasses walked over, dropped in his phone, and went back to his bed.

"Thank you… uh…"

"Bill."

"Oh, the woman who dropped you off has no idea who you are."

"She's my mother."

"…oh. Anyway, Ralph Roemers! I believe you're the one obsessed with keeping a fire lit at all times? I'll take your lighter-"

Ralph shoved his hand in his pocket. "What lighter? I don't have a lighter. Or matches. Nope, no lighter or matches!" he said, giggling nervously.

After a brief struggle, all of the fire-starting things were taken from Ralph, who began to sulk as well. Sulking seemed to be a common reaction.

"Who's next-"

"Percival Wemys Madison…"

"You don't say anything but your address, apparently."

"Percival Wemys Madison…"

Mr. Flies grabbed the cell phone off of the boy's bed.

"PERCIVAL WEMYS MADISON TELEPHONE."

Simon was a bit worried for everyone else's sanity. Not that he was very sane. But he was certainly more sane than everyone else. Maybe not more sane than Bill. Or that boring-looking person.

Mr. Flies skipped the boring-looking person. Simon couldn't remember what his name was, he was so boring-looking. His name was probably boring, too.

"Now! Piggy!"

"My name is-"

"Piggy, you are eating your Aunt out of house and home. I think you need to give me your duffel bag."

Piggy, after sulking for a bit, handed over the bag. It was full of candy.

Maurice accidentally drooled on Roger's head. Roger shoved him off of the bed, muttering under his breath all the while.

"Now. Get some sleep, tomorrow morning we'll have our first physical conditioning session," Mr. Flies said.

Maurice, still on the floor, asked what they were all thinking. "Uh, don't we get supper?"

"Oh, right!" Mr. Flies said. He threw each of them a package of dried fruit and a water bottle. "Have fun."

* * *

**Sorry that this is a bit short and that I didn't get around to posting last week; I tried to get it done before I left for vacation, but I couldn't manage it. :P But, here you go? **

**I hope it's good enough. **


	3. The First Tasks

They were woken up at three in the morning by Ralph frantically trying to start a fire with two sticks.

Everyone just kind of looked at him. Roger shoved Maurice out of his bed and wondered how he'd gotten in there. Jack went back to his classic novel that he was really just pretending to read, seeing as it was much too dark to be reading. Bill, who was still wearing his sunglasses, kept sleeping. Mr. Flies wondered if he should've taken Bill's sunglasses instead of cell phone.

Eventually, though, it got to a decent-ish hour. And by that, I mean five A.M. instead of three. There was much grumbling. Mr. Flies threw them each a banana for breakfast. There was grumbling about that as well.

"Can't we have some real food? We need meat!" Jack said.

"I thought all hipsters were vegetarians or something…" Maurice muttered under his breath. "Don't they just eat weird food?"

"I'm not a hipster!"

"I'm sorry. Meat is not readily available here," Mr. Flies said. "Now, follow me."

The group followed Mr. Flies out to a track. It was an average track, four laps to a mile, that sort of thing.

"Well? Start running!"

"Just… start running?" the boring kid asked. Mr. Flies nodded, and the group, still a little skeptical, began to run.

Piggy didn't make it a fourth of a way around the first lap and collapsed, gasping for air. Roger kicked him when he was on his second lap. Pervical almost made one entire lap, but then fell over. Simon made it two laps before fainting. Roger kicked him, too.

Robert dropped out next, but nobody noticed him. Then Jack went, and Bill got bored and just walked away. It was between Maurice, Roger, and Ralph. Maurice was panting. Roger's bare chest gleamed with sweat. Ralph just looked like the typical athletic guy.

Then Maurice dropped to his hands and knees and threw up. "Can't do it…" he gasped.

Roger and Ralph went another lap before Roger collapsed. Mr. Flies brought out the garbage bag and handed Ralph his lighter and matches. Maurice gasped from his position on the ground.

"I would've kept running if I would've known… hey, is Roger okay?"

Roger, like Simon, was unconscious. Unlike Simon, who had been moved into the shade by that boring kid or someone unimportant like that. Maurice dragged him back to the cabin.

"Hey! There are new people here!"

There was a pair of twins sitting on the floor of the cabin. They were completely identical, and wore the exact same clothes. Mr. Flies walked in, took one of them, and left. His brother looked after him, the expression on his face more than a little horrified.

"He just took Eric!"

"He takes everything that might be slightly important to us," Maurice said, dropping Roger on his bed and hanging upside-down on the ladder again. "He took my Stephen King movies. And Jack's iPod. And Simon's (fake) pet lizard. And-"

"Shut up Maurice," Roger muttered, sitting up.

"You're alive! You collapsed. Ralph won."

"Dammit. I'm cold."

"That's because you don't have a shirt on," Piggy, who was recovering from his 'ass-mar' attack, informed him.

"That's because he took all of my shirts, idiot," he said. Ralph giggled and hugged his fire-starting devices to his chest. Every ignored him, except Simon, who had just wandered in. They'd forgotten him outside.

* * *

"After lunch, you're going to do your second task," Mr. Flies said. Maurice had a sneaking suspicion that lunch would be more fruit and water. He was extremely surprised when three slices of ham were dropped into his hands. "Our top three from the last task get meat. You will get meat if you win or are close to winning."

It was gone almost immediately.

Mr. Flies grinned and led the group out to the track again.

"We don't have to run again, do we?" Maurice asked. The track had been cleaned somehow, even though nobody had been out there. Maybe Eric had done it.

"No, no, no. Line up in the middle."

With that, he handed them each a long, wooden pole-type-thing. Spears, kind of, although they weren't pointy on the end. Roger grinned. Maurice had an idea why. They were probably going to be hurting people in this task.

"Now. Your objective is to be the last standing in the middle. If someone faints-" if on cue, Simon fainted. Mr. Flies rolled him onto the track with his foot. "Just roll them out. Now. Start!"

Maurice stood behind Roger. It was a good spot, as long as Roger didn't turn around and see him. Roger went immediately for Sam, who screamed and ran onto the track. Roger rolled his eyes and decided to attack Piggy instead.

Piggy also screamed and ran away.

Roger looked upset. Maurice decided to get as far away from him as possible and ended up face to face with Jack. Jack whipped the spear-thing at his face. He ducked and shoved Jack. Jack stumbled back a few steps, catching himself just before going over.

And then someone shoved Maurice from behind and both him and Jack were out. Roger had somehow taken out everyone else besides Bill and Ralph. Ralph had been the one to push Maurice and Jack, and Bill was currently battling Roger. Ralph joined him.

Roger was in the absolute center, and he wasn't moving. While it looked like Bill and Ralph were pulling their strikes a little, he went all-out. He broke Bill's sunglasses, and Bill ran back to the cabin. He was back a few minutes later with a new pair of sunglasses, and it was up to Ralph and Roger, just like last time.

Roger obviously had the upper hand this time.

While Ralph was more athletic, Roger had less inhibitions. While Ralph tried to hit at Roger's arms and legs, Roger smacked him in the face. Eventually, Ralph was forced out onto the track, nose bleeding and various bruises forming. Roger stood alone in the middle of the middle of the track, grinning. He looked extremely savage.

Mr. Flies gave him his T-shirts back. The counselor seemed more than a little disturbed.

Speaking of Disturbed, that's the shirt that Roger had decided to put on. He was Disturbed boy once again.

* * *

**And here we go. Cx**

**I hope you enjoyed, review, whatever, have a nice week! :3**


	4. The Trauma

After dinner – the meat was handed out to Roger, Ralph, and Bill this time – it was time for a 'fun campfire.' Of course, they didn't have anything to eat but fruit, so it was looking like it was going to be pretty lame. Especially when Mr. Flies ordered them to go find some firewood.

Maurice followed Roger, who, instead of taking the designated path through the woods, was just pushing through the foliage. Several branches hit Maurice in the face. Roger didn't care.

"What are you doing?" Maurice asked at last. Roger jumped, as if he didn't know someone was following him.

"Getting out of here," he said.

"You don't have your stuff."

"I don't care. The hitting people part was fun, but the food sucks, everyone's annoying – including you, by the way, go away – and _you won't stop touching me_."

Maurice suddenly had an idea on how to get Roger back. It would be slightly less effective, considering he was now wearing a shirt, but it would work if he kissed him too.

Maurice reached around Roger and hugged him. Roger froze, and Maurice began lugging him back through the trees. It was then that Roger began to struggle, and then Maurice kissed his neck, and he struggled more until Maurice was literally smothering him with kisses.

Well, it was the ground that was smothering Roger, really, because Maurice had him pinned down, but Maurice had the idea that eventually the kissing would freak Roger out enough that he'd just go into a catatonic state and just lay there. Then he'd be much easier to lug back to camp.

It was then that Jack showed up.

"What is going on?" he asked, looking halfway repulsed, halfway intrigued.

"Mmphhh!"

"Nothing!" Maurice said, glancing up. He made sure to keep Roger's arms pinned. "Isn't that right, Roger?"

"Mmphhh!"

Jack ran away, screaming something about, "MAURICE IS RAPING ROGER!"

It was a total of four minutes before the rest of the group found them, Maurice sitting calmly on Roger's back, Roger with his face shoved in the dirt and arms pinned to his sides. Even Bill was gaping at the scene in front of him. "I didn't think anyone could take down Roger," Ralph said. He had been made slightly more normal with the reacquiring of his lighter and matches. "How did you do it?"

"I kissed him a lot like this," Maurice said, leaning down and kissing Roger's neck. Roger let out a muffled squeak.

"Dude," Bill said. "That's gay."

"He was trying to run away."

Bill looked kind of extremely disturbed at this.

After a little more calm discussion, Maurice got off of Roger. Roger got up. He didn't say anything, just brushed the dirt off of his face and walked back to the cabin. He didn't stop at the campfire, and when Maurice looked in on him, he was just sitting on his bed, knees curled to his chest, looking out into the darkness.

"That must have been a very traumatic experience for him!" Maurice said cheerfully, rejoining the group at the campfire. They were trying and failing to roast Percival.

* * *

Ralph was having fun. There was a very large fire that nobody was trying to put out. This was good. Fire was good. Fire was good because… because… well, Ralph couldn't remember why fire was god but it was. Also trying to roast Percival had gotten them in trouble, but that had been Jack's idea.

Now Maurice had rejoined them, babbling about Roger's emotional trauma. Ralph was a little worried, because Roger didn't seem like he was used to any sort of affection at all, let alone Maurice-level affection. Ralph wasn't even sure he would be able to handle Maurice-level affection. There was a reason the kid had been calling himself Affection Man.

The jumping off of roofs thing he wasn't so sure about, though.

[linelineline]

After helping Percival with his slightly burned flesh, Simon decided to go inside. Roger was quiet, so he could probably get some sleep and hopefully not dream of pig heads or human nature. He had enough hallucinations about that in the daytime to have to deal with it at night, too.

Roger was asleep when he got in there. "Hello," Simon said, smiling softly and getting ready for bed. Roger didn't answer. "I'm sure Maurice didn't mean it. He's used to giving people a lot of affection, I bet."

"He touched me," Roger said quietly, twitching a little. "Why did he touch me? Why did he kiss me? Why did he hug me – okay, I'm pretty used to that by now – but still. Why?"

"Maybe he has a crush on you," Simon suggested. Roger twitched again.

"Why would he like me, though? I'm… I'm psycho. I tried to kill people and I think I might've succeeded in one case! _Why does he like that?"_

"Maybe he can look past all that," Simon said, turning to face the wall. "Or maybe he's a masochist."

* * *

"That was awesome!" Maurice cheered, one arm around Sam's neck, the other around Ralph's. "Who knew fire was so fun? Let's do that tomorrow night! And the night after! And the-"

"Yeah, Maurice, we get it. You like playing with fire almost more than Ralph," Jack said, but he was grinning too. They'd danced and screamed and nearly set the forest on fire. Roger was going to be sad he'd missed it. "But we should do that again."

"Hell yeah!" Maurice cheered, pretending that there weren't people sleeping in the cabin.

"I'm going to watch the fire," Ralph said. "Anyone wanna stay out with me?"

"I will," Maurice said. "All you lame people can go to bed."

"Hey," Bill said. "I'm not lame. I'm cool."

Bill was very cool.

* * *

**Hooray, I'm back! I hope this was sufficiently awesome. But, uh, yeah, should be updated weekly from now on! That is awesome, correct? Correct. **

**Also it will be getting progressively darker. Like, by the end it will be creepy. **


	5. The Building

The next morning, Roger woke up in a different bed.

He originally was a little freaked out – what if it was Maurice's bed and the guy had been doing creepy things to him? He was on the top of a bunkbed, that was for sure.

But then he looked over and saw that he was on what had formerly been Ralph's bed. His stuff was still over on his old bed. Neither Ralph nor Maurice were there.

"Hey, you awake?" Jack asked, popping up in front of his face. Roger jumped. "Bill moved you up here because we were pretty sure Maurice was going to be weird again. So, you're going to sleep above me instead of Ralph. Good thing, too, Ralph's annoying and way too handsome to be natural. I bet he's a natural brunet."

"Uh…"

"We should probably hurry if we want to get any hot water. The showers are a long way away, anyway. Are you ever going to wear anything but that Disturbed shirt? You looked good in the… what was it… Apocalyptica shirt. I liked that one."

Roger was a little stunned by Jack's sudden friendliness toward him, but he didn't say anything. Jack went over to Roger's backpack, pulled out his Apocalyptica shirt and a pair of shorts, and beckoned to Roger to follow him. "Grab my bag!" he said.

Roger grabbed Jack's bag and followed him.

Maurice and Ralph were asleep by the smoldering ashes of what had been the fire. Maurice shifted as Roger passed by him and Roger flinched. Damn. Maurice knew how to freak him out, it seemed.

Jack kept up meaningless chatter all the way to the showers. He was in the choir at his school and his family was rich. He liked Ezra Miller and music nobody had heard of. He read old books before he had to for school. He had a Tumblr. His older sister liked pop music and he often wanted to chop her iPod up with an axe.

He'd asked Roger a few questions to be polite, but when Roger didn't answer, he'd decided to keep talking about himself, which was fine with Roger.

Eventually, after wandering through the trees for about half an hour, they came to the building where the showers were located.

"Ooh, it's warm," Jack said, giving Roger his clothes and grabbing his bag. "Too bad the showers aren't separated, though."

Thirty seconds later, Roger's skin was burning off. It seemed like there was only one shower that worked, and Jack had taken that one. It had either been Hell or North Pole, and Roger had chosen Hell.

Once he was done showering, Roger got dressed and shook his head, splattering water everywhere. Jack, who was brushing his hair, glanced at him. "Your hair falls very nice naturally," he said. "It's messy, but it looks like you did it intentionally."

Roger, who was completely unused to compliments, just nodded. "Your hair is bright," he said lamely, but Jack seemed to be satisfied.

Then Maurice bounded in.

"Roger! I found you!" he said. Roger had the sudden urge to hit him over the head with a large stick. Or perhaps an axe. "Bill said he moved you to sleep over Jack."

"Because you're creepy, move on," Bill said, shoving Maurice past Roger. "You can thank me later, Disturbed Boy."

* * *

Jack had a new target.

He still had a hopeless crush on Ralph, but Ralph was undeniably straight. Roger, however, was a mystery. He certainly didn't enjoy when Maurice had raped him, but, then again, he would probably like to take it slow. And Jack was fine with that.

* * *

Eric was in a basement.

It wasn't that bad of a basement – sure, it was really dark, but food was thrown in every once in a while, it was warm, and there was a nice, comfortable, kind of old and bad-smelling couch that he slept on. Every once in a while the light would turn on and he'd catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room.

He wondered where Sam was.

* * *

Sam was in a fight with that boring kid – Robert, was it? Even Bill was more memorable than Robert, because Bill was cool, and Robert was lame.

The fight was actually fairly evenly matched.

"Break it up," Bill said, sighing and pulling the two apart. "Robert, stop being so average. Sam, stop being so easily provoked."

"Bill, stop using big words," Maurice said.

"Maurice, stop being stupid."

"Thank you."

"What?"

"You stopped with the big words."

"Mr. Flies hasn't shown up all day," Ralph remarked. "Come to think of it, Jack and Roger are gone, too. I wonder what's going on?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," Robert said. Everyone ignored him.

"Human nature," Simon muttered from his bed. Everyone looked at him. He twitched. "Sorry."

"Do you think Roger's as gay as Jack?" Robert asked. Everyone ignored him.

Because Bill was cool, everyone (except Ralph, who stayed behind with Sam to watch the fire that he'd recently rebuilt) followed him to go find Jack and Roger. It wasn't hard. They were walking around the track, Jack talking about 'all his plans' and Roger nodded and saying "Yeah" every once in a while.

"Hi!" Maurice said. "We found you!"

"Have you seen Mr. Flies?" Bill asked, sliding in beside Jack. "We're hungry. It's about supper time, and we haven't even had breakfast or lunch. I think Piggy's dead back there."

Jack shrugged. "There's a building beside the one the showers are in. Maybe he's in there?"

"Adventure time!" Maurice cheered, slinging an arm around Roger's shoulder. Roger pushed him away, and Bill moved him to walk beside Simon.

* * *

Inside the little building beside the showers, there were three rooms. Jack had taken charge by now, and Bill had just gone with it, being the cool person he is. "Okay, Roger, you come with me to the farthest room. Bill and… you… go to the one closest to us. Maurice and Simon can go to the other room."

Simon followed Maurice, who was talking about everything and nothing. "Ooh! A file cabinet!" Maurice said, skipping over to said folder-holding device. Simon followed. Maurice began to rifle through the papers in the cabinet.

"Hey, there's one with your name on it! And me! Roger's wanted for three accounts of murder and seven attempted murders!"

* * *

**And on that happy note, let's end the chapter. xP **


	6. The Room

Roger felt extremely awkward.

The day had started off OK, despite the initial freak-out that came with being a completely different bed, and Jack was nice. And paid attention to him, but not to the extreme that Maurice did. It was nice, especially because Jack was perfectly okay with talking about himself.

The room furthest from the door was dark and creepy – in other words, just Roger's type of room. He stepped forward to inspect the promising-looking torture device just a few steps away, only to nearly be cut in half by a cliché swinging axe. Jack pulled him back just in time.

"This place is creepy," Jack hissed. Roger nodded. Jack flicked on a flashlight.

"Shine it at the ceiling," Roger said. Jack looked at him. "To see if there are any more axes or something."

"Oh. Right. Good idea," Jack said. Weirdly enough, there weren't anything up there – not even the thing that had nearly cut Roger in half. Jack shuddered. "Let's get out of here."

But when Roger turned, the door they had come through was gone.

* * *

"…"

"…"

"…."

"So-"

"I'm cool, you're lame. Don't even try to talk to me."

"…Okay."

* * *

Maurice stuck the files that he was planning on studying under his arm and skipped out of the room, Simon behind him. They met Bill and Robert, both of whom were eating Nutella. They didn't let Maurice have any, which was probably a good idea.

"Where are Jack and Roger?" Maurice asked, reaching for the Nutella again. "Are they doing inappropriate things?"

"Possibly," Bill said. "That wouldn't be cool. Jack's a hipster and Roger's a creepy sadistic weirdo. It would look weird. And not cool."

"That is possibly the most words I have heard you say at once," Maurice said. Bill glared at him. He shut up.

* * *

Back at the camp, Ralph and Sam were sitting awkwardly by the fire. Sam gave Ralph a marshmallow. Ralph gave Sam a leaf. It was a peaceful existence.

* * *

"Duck!" Roger yelled, and Jack dropped to the floor, just barely avoiding the giant blade that had come out of the wall. Roger was pressed against where the door had been, and Jack was looking for an exit. Roger thought he was pretty stupid to be moving around, but-

"Roger!" Jack said, grabbing Roger by the front of the shirt and pulling him away from the wall, just as the wall collapsed. The force of Jack pulling him plus Roger's weigh knocked them to the ground, an accidental kiss happening.

"Knew it!"

Roger, absolutely mortified scrambled away from Jack and looked up. Maurice was on the other side of the collapsed wall, grinning and holding quite a few folders under one arm. In his hands he held a sledgehammer.

Maurice took a step toward the room, and Roger knocked him back out. "You will die if you go in there," he snarled. Jack followed Roger, shivering and grabbing the Nutella from Robert.

"I hate this stuff," he remarked as he broke the lid in half to use as an eating utensil. He gave a lidful of Nutella to Roger as well, who passed it to Maurice, who squealed in delight, dropped the hammer, and ran off before anyone could take it away from him.

* * *

Jack stood before the mirror in the shower-building, staring at his face. He'd just finished washing it – it had gotten pretty dirty during the… adventure in the creepy room. His hair was getting too long. Not as long as Roger's yet, but still getting there.

Of course, long hair looked good on Roger-

Focus, Merridew, focus.

This camp was weird. He didn't know if he liked it or not, but most of the guys here were nice. Maurice was weird, and Roger was psychotic, and Ralph was _too damn attractive_, but overall it was good.

* * *

When Mr. Flies got back to the cabin, he was faced with eight boys who had eaten way too much Nutella and a Roger that was currently sending rubber bands flying toward Maurice's face. Maurice couldn't be bothered to threaten him with affection. Roger was enjoying this. He occasionally send a rubber band toward Piggy, or Sam, or anyone else. Except Jack. Partly because Jack was right underneath him, and partly because he was avoiding thinking about Jack, and hitting him with a rubber band counted as thinking about him.

"Where did you get that Nutella?" Mr. Flies asked.

"That creepy shack-house-thing," Maurice promptly, getting a rubber band in the eye. "Ow!"

"Why were you trespassing?"

"YOLO," Piggy muttered. He got three rubber bands in his face.

"Fatty," Jack muttered. Mr. Flies sighed and turned around to leave.

"I don't have time for this. I'm leaving you nine out here alone for a few days," Mr. Flies said. "Oh, and Jack and Roger. You survived the room. Mister Merridew, here's your iPod. Roger, have a Kit-Kat."

Roger threw his Kit-Kat to Maurice, who grinned at him.

"Why do you give him sugar?" Bill asked.

"I don't want it. He does."

* * *

**Updates may stop mid-November, as I am doing NaNoWriMo. :) It all depends on how much I get written ahead of time.**


	7. The Cool Chief

"The first thing we need is food-" Ralph started, but Roger pushed him over and Jack took his place at the head of the room.

"Fuck you Ralph I-"

"No, I'm cool. I should be chief," Bill pointed out. Everyone thought this was a wonderful idea and suddenly Bill was given the recognition he deserved. He was the coolest chief that anyone had ever seen. "First things first, Ralph can keep watching the fire because apparently he isn't good for anything else. Sam can join him. Oh, and Jack. You go get us some food. With the fat kid, the lame kid, and the kid who faints all the time. I bet you'll have a great time. Maurice and Roger, guard me because assassination can happen, and Maurice, make sure not to rape Roger because rape is not cool."

"What about me?" Percival asked.

"…You're short and not cool. Go help Jack."

* * *

Maurice and Roger stood outside the door of the cabin. Bill was inside. Maurice kept trying to hold Roger's hand. Roger kept hitting him with his pointy stick when he did so. Maurice kept eating candy. Maurice was kind of on a major sugar high.

Not like he was really acting any different, but Roger was hoping for him to crash soon.

Some kid who looked like Sam came out of the trees, dragging Simon behind him. "He fainted and the creepy redhead-"

"He reminds me of Malachi, doesn't he remind you of Malachi?"

"The creepy redhead told me to bring him back here."

* * *

Bill had found the bag of stuff that Mr. Flies had taken away from them. This was cool, mostly because now he could pay the people in Piggy's candy and also because he had his cell phone back. And maybe if Maurice stayed up all night watching horror movies he would sleep all day. That would be very cool.

Sam entered the room, dragging Simon behind him.

"Sam, what are you doing? You're disrupting my 'cool' aura."

"I'm not Sam. I'm Eric."

"Who the fuck is Eric?"

"Me."

"Okay. Oh. Simon's dead. Just lay him on the bed. The farthest one away from me. Dead things do not smell very good. And they're not cool."

"Roger disagrees!" Maurice yelled from outside.

"Nobody cares, Maurice!" Bill yelled back. "Okay, Sam, go back to watching the fire with Ralph."

"But I'm Eric-"

"Shut up and go."

* * *

"If you let me hold your hand I'll shut up for as long as I'm holding your hand."

Roger was about to hit him again, but then realized that this could seriously be beneficial. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

They ended up holding hands.

* * *

Jack was not having a good time finding food with these lame people.

First of all, Fatty kept falling over and blaming his asthma. Then he'd complain when they left him behind. Lame-kid was just lame. Short-kid was too little and cried when Jack accidentally tripped him and sent him falling off of a small cliff.

Jack sometimes wondered if he was hanging around Roger too much.

Eventually, however, they made it to that little house again. Simon had disappeared. Jack didn't care, because apparently Bill had just stuck him with all the lame people-

Hold on.

What if _Bill _thought _Jack _was _lame?_

This was not acceptable.

He would have to become the chief.

Because obviously if what Bill thought was lame was Jack, then Bill's views on lame and cool must be wrong.

"Hold on! I can't- my ass-mar-"

…Maybe he was right about Fatty, though.

* * *

Roger was enjoying this 'Maurice shutting up' thing. And his hand was rather warm. Not that Roger liked holding Maurice's hand. It was just warm. And Maurice was shutting up. And they could clothesline people who tried to go through the door. That was fun.

Then Jack and his lame people stomped back. Jack's eyes nearly fell out of his face when he saw Maurice and Roger holding hands.

"Roger! You whore!"

"He's shutting up."

"Prostitute!"

"I'm not paying him, technically it's like he's paying me to hold his hand, he's shutting up-"

"Slut!"

"No-"

"I thought we had something special!"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…I'm going to go now."

Jack and his lame people left. Maurice raised his hand. Roger looked at him. "What?"

"He's jealous."

"Really. That really wasn't obvious."

"You're sassy, Roger."

"I thought you were shutting up?"

"Right. Sorry."

* * *

That night, their group had shrunk. Ginger, Fatty, Lame-kid and Short-kid were gone. They didn't have food. Simon wasn't actually dead. Maurice and Roger were holding hands. Bill was fairly certain that they were gay lovers, but it looked consensual, so it was cool.

"Okay. So. We're the cool people," Bill said, nodding. "They're the lame people. And also stupid. Because we've got the cabin. And Piggy's candy. And also I found Mr. Flies's stash of food under the floorboards. Really we could just stay in here. Forever. Sam, lock the door. Other Sam, lock the windows."

"Yes Cool Chief Bill Sir!" they chirped in unison, because they were creepy twins and they could do that. They did as he said.

Bill nodded. He was satisfied. He had a cool tribe.

* * *

**And here we go. :D Review? **


	8. The Cool Club

"I'm bored," Maurice complained, hanging upside-down from his bunk-bed ladder. "Roger, let's make a bridge."

"No."

"Then we can visit each other in the middle of the night!"

"No."

"Well too bad because I'm going to," Maurice decided, getting down from the ladder and stealing Simon's ladder to stretch across the top. He then proceeded to crawl across. Roger waited until he was very close to his bed, then pushed the ladder away. Maurice fell, grabbing onto Roger's top bunk with one hand.

"Scar- please," Maurice gasped. Roger pulled his fingers off and he fell. "Noooooooo!"

"What was that about?" Roger asked everyone. Everyone shrugged, except Bill, who had an answer for him.

"He was reenacting The Lion King. But you didn't play along so it's not cool," Bill said.

"You were supposed to say 'Long live the king,'" Maurice said from his position on the floor. "But you just hurt me instead. How do you not know that? Did you have no childhood?"

Just then, there was a furious pounding on the door. Maurice bounced up and, pushing past Sam and Sam, stood before the door, one hand on the doorknob. "Who's there?"

"Robert!"

"Robert who?" Maurice asked. He unlocked the door and cracked it open an inch, and the boring kid shoved his way into the cabin, shutting the door and locking it behind him. "Hey! That was very impolite."

"Being impolite is not cool," Bill informed him.

"I'm sorry," Robert said. Suddenly, he fell to his knees before Bill, who looked at him like he was insane. "Teach me how to be cool like you, Bill!"

"…What."

"I want to be cool! I want to be the second-coolest person in the world – the coolest being you, of course – and I want to not be so boring!"

Bill thought about it for a second, then nodded. "Okay," he said. "You will be my 'cool' pupil. Maurice, if you're eavesdropping, you should take some notes."

Maurice, who was trying to set up his bridge again, gave him a thumbs up.

* * *

Jack was freezing cold.

He'd left Fatty out in the cold and the boring kid had left him, and now he just had the short kid. He was in the shower-house, because that was the only shelter available. He kind of wished that he wasn't such a power-hungry dick, but then he got over wishing that.

"I'm hungry," the short kid complained.

"Shut up," Jack said.

* * *

Piggy was wandering around when he found a car. This car took him back to civilization and he was saved.

Hooray!

* * *

"Let's have movie night!" Maurice said. Bill pressed a button on the secret remote that he had found and one of the walls turned into a TV. Maurice pulled out his bag of Stephen King movies and picked one at random.

"Put your sunglasses on," Bill muttered to Robert. Robert looked at him, confused.

"But then I won't be able to see-"

"It's cool."

"Okay."

A few minutes later, the mattresses and blankets and pillows were piled in front of the TV, Maurice had put in the DVD and wrapped a blanket around him and Roger, who had been hit over the head with a ladder to get to participate in this, and they passed around Piggy's candy.

Roger woke up halfway through the movie, right when a dead rat was dropped into Louis Creed's bathtub.

"What are we watching?" he asked. "My head hurts."

"Don't worry about that!" Maurice said, giggling nervously. Roger looked at him, decided that it wasn't important and decided to keep watching the movie. The last half of Pet Sematary was his very first Stephen King film ever.

He loved it.

Maurice kept putting in Stephen King movies. Samneric fell asleep first, and the mattress they were sharing mysteriously floated to a bed. Next Simon and Ralph, who were also sharing a mattress – Simon didn't actually fall asleep, he fainted because Ralph was sitting so close to him – fell asleep and were put on a bed. Then Bill and Robert, but because whatever mystical creature was moving the mattresses around couldn't see that they were asleep because they were wearing sunglasses, their mattress stayed on the floor.

Maurice and Roger didn't fall asleep, Maurice because he was eating tons of candy and Roger because he had discovered the wonderful world of Stephen King.

* * *

When Simon woke up the next morning after several confusing nightmares about pig's heads on sticks and undead cats, he was surprised to see that he was curled up next to Ralph. He wasn't just surprised – he was surprised, horrified, and happy all at the same time.

Simon had a not-so-discreet crush on Ralph.

Ralph woke up then, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Simon's bright green eyes staring at him. "Uh, hello," Ralph said. Simon turned red and fainted. Ralph blinked and got out of the bed. "I'm going to go take a shower in the shower-place. See you guys later."

"Wait," Bill said. "Me and Robert will come with you. Here, have some sunglasses. You can be part of our 'cool' group."

"Can I be part of the cool group?" Maurice asked.

"No."

* * *

After rewatching Pet Sematary because he hadn't seen the beginning, Roger decided to go see if he could find Jack. Sure, Jack wasn't part of their group because he was power-hungry and Bill was the chief, but that didn't mean that Roger didn't like him. In fact, Roger liked Jack quite a bit. And maybe Jack liked him, too.

But not as intensely as Maurice did. If anyone else liked him as intensely as Maurice did he would probably kill them.

But for some reason he didn't kill Maurice.

Life was odd sometimes.

* * *

It was The Cool Group that found Jack – and, by default, Percival. Jack was taking a shower, and Percival was sleeping and also probably drowning. Bill rescued Percival because that was a cool thing to do. Rescuing people and being a good citizen was cool.

Also sunglasses.

But that was beside the point. Jack basically fell on his knees before Ralph and Robert and Bill – which was quite awkward considering his nakedness – and begged them to let him be part of their 'tribe.'

"Quit calling it a tribe and acknowledge that I am the coolest, best chief ever and you've got a deal," Bill said.

Jack agreed.

* * *

**And we're back! :D I finished NaNoWriMo early with around 67k. Hooray! We should return to our regularly scheduled insanity. **


	9. The Split

Roger was lost.

He'd been looking for Jack – he'd been locked out of the cabin last night, and it had stormed last night. And Jack hadn't had any food since the Nutella. Roger had a feeling that Jack needed shelter, and food, and probably new clothes.

But now it looked like he was going to have to find some shelter before it started raining again.

* * *

"Roger's been gone too long," Maurice said. He was pacing. Bill, Robert, and Ralph were ignoring him like the cool people they were. Jack looked up from his food.

"Where did he go?"

"He went to go look for you!" Maurice said. He hung upside-down from his bunkbed, because that helped him think. "We're going to have to go find him. Yeah, that's what we'll do. I'm going to go find Roger. Who wants to- ahh!"

That was Maurice falling off of his bunkbed and hitting his head on the ground. He was okay, though. Maurice had a rather hard head. Even the cool people looked at him when they heard the clunk. When they saw that he was okay, however, they went back to their conversation.

Only Simon and Jack seemed slightly interested in what Maurice was talking about. "But it's raining," Jack pointed out. Maurice shrugged.

"So? He's out there, we can go out there and find him."

* * *

Ralph watched as Maurice, Simon, and Jack went to go find Roger. He had found that he was liking these sunglasses and being part of the 'cool' group of people. Mostly because he could look at whatever he wanted and nobody could tell the difference.

"Ralph! Focus!"

Except Bill, apparently.

"Sorry," Ralph said, turning his eyes and mind back to their cool conversation, which was actually not a conversation at all but just everybody texting. Ralph's phone had gotten taken away from him before he'd come here, so he just pretended to text.

* * *

Roger had found a nice little cave to take refuge in. It wasn't actually a very small cave; it just looked small from the outside. On the inside, it was actually a nice, lavishly furnished room. Roger decided to sleep on the bed, because that's what you do when you find a lavishly furnished room in a cave in the woods during a stormy night.

It maybe isn't the smartest thing to do if you find a lavishly furnished room in a cave in the woods during a stormy night, but it's what you do.

When he woke up, there was food on the table beside the bed – food that Roger liked, so he ate it.

* * *

Maurice, Jack, and Simon had been searching the woods for way too long.

Maurice wasn't actually completely sure how long they'd been searching, but Simon had fainted more than once, and Jack had tried to leave him behind more than once, and Maurice had had to carry Simon until he woke up more than once.

Eventually, they came upon a strange, short creature right in front of a hole in a large slab of rock. "Hello!" Maurice said cheerfully, dropping an unconscious Simon. Simon was in danger of drowning, but nobody said anything because, even though he's listed as one of the main characters in this story, he's really kind of a minor character. Sorry Simon. But you're Jesus, you should be able to come back to life if you do end up drowning.

"You shouldn't go in there," the short person told Maurice. Maurice, who didn't generally put much faith in short people, decided to ignore him. But Jack had just noticed that Simon was drowning, so he turned him out of the puddle and followed Maurice.

Inside the cave was Roger's nice little paradise. Except now it wasn't really a paradise that Maurice had entered.

Roger considered attacking, but he didn't.

"Uh, we should go back," Jack said. "Also I think Simon is drowning, even though I turned him out of that puddle."

"Oh, I forgot Simon!" Maurice said, running out of the cave. A large rock blocked the entrance so that Maurice could never get back in and Jack and Roger could never get out.

There. Now it was Roger's paradise.

* * *

Samneric were playing a video game. Bill had messed with his remote some more, and now a video game neither of them had heard about had shown up on the gigantic wall-TV. So, they decided to play it.

And were suddenly transported into said video game.

* * *

"Robert. You and Percival go see if you can find any more Nutella," Bill ordered. As soon as they were out of the door, it locked. Magically. The things that had been lifting this around the other night had locked it.

"We're locked in," Ralph said. Bill went over and tried the doorknob.

"Yes. Yes, we are."

* * *

Robert and Percival had ended up finding more Nutella, but when they tried to get out of the room that they had found Nutella in, they found that they were locked in. Percival burst into tears. Robert broke his sunglasses in a slightly lame attempt to _cut _the door open.

Needless to say, they did not get out.

"At least we have food?" Robert said.

* * *

Maurice and Simon had spent a large amount of time pounding on the rock that blocked the entrance to Roger's cave before Simon looked like he was going to faint again and they decided to head back to the cabin. After all, Jack and Roger were (presumably) dry, and Maurice and Simon were soaking wet.

Unfortunately, the door of the cabin was also locked.

"We could try the shower room?" Simon suggested. Maurice glanced around.

"Yeah, I guess that's the only thing left," Maurice said. "Except the place where we found the Nutella. But with our luck, that's probably locked, too."

"At least with the shower place if we get cold we can just take hot showers until we're not cold anymore," Simon said. Maurice grinned and nodded, grabbing Simon's hand and dragging him toward the shower place.

* * *

**And here we go. :D**


	10. The Boredom

After about ten minutes, Ralph got bored.

You could only pretend to text for so long.

"So…" Ralph said. Bill glanced up from his cell phone. "Uh. Hi."

"Hey," Bill said. Ralph took a deep breath. Okay. This wasn't going so bad. He could probably talk to Bill without melting into a puddle. "What's up?"

This was truly the epitome of 'cool' conversation.

"Nothing much," Ralph said, managing to keep his voice from cracking. "How about you?"

"Same," Bill said. There was an awkward pause. "Well. Talk to you later."

"OK."

* * *

"Can we find a tree to sleep under?" Simon asked. He was leaning on Maurice, who was insisting on pushing on through the incredibly heavy rain. "I'm tired."

"No! We must go on!" Maurice said, trying to sound knightly and valiant. He didn't. "But if we find a cabin or something we'll stay there- ooh, look! A conveniently placed story hole! I wonder what story the author has become so enamored with that she would send us there!"

"Let's find out," Simon muttered. He was half-asleep and therefore not very sociable. Maurice shoved him down first, then followed.

* * *

Piggy, who we all thought was rescued, was actually in the car of a serial killer. He didn't know it was a serial killer, though, because this person seemed perfectly nice and not psychotic. Someone like Roger or Jack he could see as a serial killer, but not this lovely person who looked like he stepped straight out of a British TV drama.

Complete with the British accent.

If that wasn't obvious already.

"So, where are you headed?" the serial killer asked. Piggy shrugged.

"Civilization."

"Well that's too bad because I'm headed to the cemetery and you're going with me."

"The cemetery is more civilized than where I just came from."

"Okay."

* * *

The video game that Samneric were stuck in had turned into Lego Star Wars. Samneric seemed to have taken over the 'main two people' – in the first part of the first level, that was Qui Gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi. Sam was Qui Gon Jinn. Eric was Obi Wan Kenobi.

Sam was pretty jealous of Eric.

"So, what do we do now?" Sam asked. Eric shrugged and started killing lego chairs with his lego lightsaber. Lego coins flew everywhere and the two raced to get them. Eric killed Sam and took all of Sam's coins. Sam reassembled.

"What was that for?"

"Hahahaha!" Eric laughed, running around and chopping everything up with his lego lightsaber. He was liking this.

* * *

Robert and Percival sat in the room, passing a jar of Nutella back and forth. There was really no reason for them to be sharing a jar of Nutella but to feed the fangirls, and these two, who really didn't have any fangirls, needed to feed the few that they had by being slightly homosexual.

But only slightly, because Percival was eleven and Robert was thirteen.

Not that that had ever stopped fangirls before, but it was always nice to be considerate of the people who found small boy children being homosexual weird. Because it was really weird, because small children should not be kissing other people, whether it be homosexual kissing or heterosexual kissing.

Nope.

Unless it was the cute, aw you guys are going to get married aren't you, type of thing. Then it was okay.

What were we talking about again?

Oh, right. Percival and Robert feeding the fangirls by sharing a jar of Nutella. You'd think that such a small action wouldn't matter, but, hey, fangirls take all that they can get. "So," Robert said. "Do you think we'll ever get out?"

"No."

"Well you're certainly a happy person."

"Yes."

* * *

Contrary to what the author wants, Jack and Roger were not a) having a furious make-out session or b) cuddling. They were actually just… talking. Well, mostly Jack was talking, because Jack is the person who always talks, and Roger's the quiet one. The quiet one is always the killer, keep that in mind children.

Wait, what?

"…so, my parents sent me here because apparently being gay isn't 'right,'" Jack said, making air quotes around the world 'right.' Roger nodded and played with his blanket. "I mean, I don't even know what their problem is. It's just me. That's who I am. I'm not going to be like everyone else. I used to be able to sing C sharp. Then my voice changed."

"That must have been very traumatic for you," Roger said. He then proceeded to play the juice box game.

How to play the juice box came was simple – stab a juice box all over and then stick the straw in the top and suck it down as fast as you could before you got juice all over you. Roger was very practiced in this game and could finish off a juice box in three seconds flat. It was one of his hidden talents.

Not a very practical talent, but a talent nonetheless.

"It was," Jack said, nodding. "Also Ralph is very attractive."

"Um," Roger said. "If you say so."

Roger's type had always been the ugly ginger type.

Or himself.

Roger did find himself rather attractive.

He kind of understood where Maurice was coming from in that regard.

"So, what do you think we're supposed to do in here?" Jack asked, switching the subject completely. Roger shrugged. "Well, then I can tell you more about my incredibly fascinating life. So, when I was three years old…"

* * *

**So, this is a little short, but… I guess it works? Also I really started shipping Bill/Ralph.**

**A lot.**

**Like super-hard.**

**One of my new OTPs.**

**And I'm posting this early because I will be gone on Monday! And Tuesday and Sunday, but this is usually posted on Monday. Early update time!  
**


	11. The Massively Gay Crush

Roger woke up on the hard stone floor of his nice little cave. He briefly wondered how he'd gotten on the floor, then remembered that Jack was with him and Jack had taken the bed, because he was _Jack_ and he got the bed.

Roger sat up. His cave had changed drastically; the bed was gone, leaving Jack asleep on his stomach, stretched out across the floor. It was basically just a stone hole in a large rock. Oh, look, there was a tunnel.

Roger got up and walked over to where Jack slept. He watched the ginger sleep for a few moments, then poked him a few times to get him to wake up. "What," Jack muttered.

"Wake up," Roger said.

"Why."

"Because there's a mysterious tunnel and everything else in the room disappeared."

"Let me sleep."

"No."

Eventually, they ended up with Roger just carrying Jack as he half-slept, half-confessed that he actually loved some mainstream music, like One Direction and Hot Chelle Rae. But mostly just One Direction's faces. Roger didn't really care, because he had no idea who Hot Chelle Rae was and didn't give a fuck about One Direction's faces. He started to care a little bit when Jack started blasting One Direction from his iPod.

Roger then proceeded to take the iPod and smash it. Jack made a sound like a dying whale that was very reminiscent of the second chapter of this fanfiction when Mr. Flies had taken the iPod away. He probably would have complained more, but he was already half-asleep, so he just completely fell asleep and Roger had to readjust how he was carrying him so that he didn't fall.

Eventually, Roger got bored and started to hum songs by bands such as Five Finger Death Punch and Disturbed. He was halfway through 'Bad Company' by Five Finger Death Punch when Jack woke up. "What are you singing?"

"Nothing."

"What are you humming?" Jack rephrased his question and Roger turned red.

"Nothing."

"Was it something that you'd be embarrassed to say you liked?"

Roger thought for a little bit. "No. No, not really."

"Then stop avoiding the question."

They argued stupidly like this for a few more minutes, and then Roger realized that his arms felt like jelly and that Jack was awake, so he just dropped Jack. Jack landed not-so-gracefully on his hands and feet, like he was doing a sort of bridge.

"Let's keep going," Roger said, wondering what Maurice was doing at the moment.

* * *

At the moment, Maurice was strolling through a large, Wal-Mart type place dragging Simon along behind him (Simon being unconscious), looking all of the stories that he could decide to enter. There were two sections – fanfiction section and actual fiction section. He'd abandoned the 'fanfiction' section after seeing about thirty 'girl on the island' fanfictions (whatever 'the island' meant), and was now browsing original fiction.

"Hm…" Maurice said, picking up a large bar of chocolate. "I wonder what story this could represent!"

He turned it over and read the back. "The Chocolate War."

Maurice looked at Simon, who was beginning to twitch a little.

"Well, I like chocolate!" Maurice chirped. "And a war about chocolate sounds fantastic! Let's get this one!"

Unfortunately, he had to wait for Simon to wake up before they could head to this chocolate war world. It sounded like a fun world. Anything about wars and chocolate would be good.

He decided to find some water to dump over Simon's head to wake him up. He eventually found a large pitcher of what looked like thick red Kool-Aid instead, with the name "'Salem's Lot" on the bottom. But Maurice didn't look at the bottom, because if he did, then all of the lovely thick, red Kool-Aid would be spilled, and he needed to dump it on Simon to wake him up.

One problem.

As soon as he dumped the Kool-Aid on Simon's face, he disappeared. It was then that Maurice looked at the bottom of the pitcher.

"Oops," he said. "I think I just sent him into 'Salem's Lot. Whatever that is. Hey, I think I saw both of those miniseries! One of them has Rob Lowe in it!"

Maurice thought about Rob Lowe for a little bit, then realized what, exactly, 'Salem's Lot was about and that that 'red Kool-Aid' was actually probably blood.

"Oops."

* * *

"GET ON THE BUTTON."

"Never!" Eric said, running around while Sam stood on his button. They were both supposed to be standing on the Lego buttons so that their Lego companion could open up the back of the trunk. Eric then decided to kill Sam and collect all of his Lego money. "Hahahahaha!"

* * *

"I'm bored," Percival complained. He was currently painting a picture with melted Nutella. They'd melted the Nutella with the lighter that Robert had stolen from Ralph.

A little known fact about Robert was that he could steal things very easily because people rarely realized that he, in fact, did exist and was, in fact, stealing your wallet and/or lighter. (He'd almost gotten Jack's iPod, too, but Roger could apparently see him, and the last thing Robert wanted to deal with was an angry Roger.)

"Get over it," Robert snapped.

Robert was also very mean sometimes. Like in the situation in which he was forced to care for a stupid little kid who kept complaining that he was bored and wasted all the Nutella on his stupid pictures.

"This is you," Percival said. Robert looked at the drawing. The stick person in the drawing didn't have a head. "The beast ate your head."

"The beast?"

Percival nodded, looking up at him with large, mournful eyes. "The beast."

* * *

"Ralph," Bill said. Ralph looked at him. "I think I am majorly gay for you."

"Oh," Ralph said. He really was not sure how to react to this information. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"That's cool," Bill said. "Take your time."

"Okay."

* * *

Piggy realized that he rather liked this cemetery. It was a nice place. Despite, you know, dead bodies and being there with a cereal killer.

Did I say serial killer before? No, Piggy was with a cereal killer. A British cereal killer. He was currently on the trail of a box of Trix, because hunting Trix was not just for kids. Piggy had decided that he was going to be the cereal killer's apprentice, and perhaps dabble in hot breakfast killing as well.

It was his calling.

* * *

**Merry Christmas! Unless you don't celebrate Christmas, then Happy Holidays! :)**


	12. insert piggy's real name here

"My feet hurt," Jack complained. He'd been increasingly more surly since he'd figured out that his iPod was in pieces a long way behind them. Roger rolled his eyes. Honestly, his feet hurt, too, but he wasn't complaining about it. Mostly because he didn't talk very much, and if he just complained all the time, nobody would ever listen to him. At the moment he sort of had a 'so scary that you have to listen to him' thing going on, and he didn't want to ruin it. "Rogerrrrr…."

"Shut up," Roger snapped. Jack shut up, and they kept walking. Roger noticed that the tunnel was slowly narrowing, and the ceiling was now brushing Jack's head. They'd have to crawl soon. And possibly be crushed into a cube.

And then he started falling.

He heard a scream from right next to him – Jack was falling as well. Roger reached out blindly and snagged what felt like a shirt. Jack clung to him like he was about to die.

Well, he probably was about to die, actually. At the speed they were going, once they hit the ground, they were going to be pancakes.

Then they started slowing down, as if just to prove Roger wrong. Roger sighed and Jack hung on to him even tighter, if that was even possible.

Then they hit the bottom, Jack landing on top of Roger. "Getoff," Roger muttered, wincing. Jack did so, letting go of him as well.

"Where are we?" Jack asked. Lights 'mysteriously' turned on, bathing the room in light. "I'm a bit confused as to what the point of that was."

"To be annoying," Roger muttered. He stood up and, after a moment's hesitation, held out a hand to Jack. Jack took it and Roger pulled him up.

Jack wouldn't let go of his hand, and Roger started moving down this brightly lit hallway, turning more than slightly red.

* * *

Simon was terrified.

He'd woken up in a very creepy house. It looked abandoned, broken down, and like he really should not be in it.

Oh God there was someone coming toward the room he was in.

Simon backed up to the window. It looked like it had originally been boarded over, but someone had broken in through it. He gave one more terrified glance to the door, then squeezed through the window. He landed hard on the ground and ran.

"I should stop and ask where I am," Simon muttered. "No, they'll think I'm batty. But people think that anyway. Hold on, what sort of modern day AU is this? Am I British, like in canon? But if I am, then why was the fact that Piggy's serial – sorry, cereal – killer British emphasized?"

Simon was asking the real questions of life.

He eventually decided to ask a boy who looked nice enough where he was.

"Excuse me, where am I?"

The boy looked a little surprised. "'Salem's Lot. Maine."

"_Maine?"_

* * *

Maurice was definitely enjoying the chocolate war. It didn't seem very war-like (yet), but there was certainly plenty of chocolate. Maurice spent way too much money on chocolate from some random people. He wondered briefly where he was going to stay the night, then decided that he would worry about that when night fell and finished eating his chocolate.

When night fell, he snuck into a school building and slept in a small room at the back of the gym. There was a solitary lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and all of it was very exciting. There was also a funny black box and a gavel stashed away inside the room, and Maurice had fun hitting the marbles in the black box with the gavel until most of the white ones skidded away and he put both of the objects back. He hoped that those white marbles weren't important in any way.

He was woken up by a handsome blond teenager.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm Maurice!" Maurice chirped, jumping to his feet. The teenager nodded slowly. "Who are you?"

"Archie Costello."

"I don't have a canonical last name, but I pretend my last name is Machintire."

"That's actually kind of sad."

"It's okay. The only one with an actual last name is Jack. Jack Merridew," Maurice said. He could see that this Archie Costello fellow was getting a bit freaked out. That was fine.

* * *

Eventually, Sam got Eric on the stupid button and then came the annoying task of getting him to be their LEGO helper. Eric refused. Sam became the LEGO helper, and Eric killed him many times and laughed when he hopped around with no arms and only one leg.

Eventually, however, they passed level one and moved on to level two.

"WE'RE IN A WARZONE!" Eric screamed, nearly getting shot. Sam deflected the bullets with his lightsaber just in time. "OH MY GOD THIS IS PROBABLY THE MOST TERRIFYING TIME OF BOTH MY LEGO AND HUMAN LIFE."

"You do realize that you'll come right back to life, right?" Sam asked, getting shot and reassembled a few moments later as if to prove his point.

"BUT MY COINS."

"We just started this level. We have no coins."

"Oh. Right."

* * *

Whatever had split up everyone and locked them away had completely forgotten about Robert and Percival, because they were boring.

So, they sort of just walked out of the little building.

They decided not to head back to the cabin, and instead decided to try and find civilization.

Hah.

Like that'll work.

* * *

"So," Bill said. "Have you thought about it yet?"

Ralph assumed that he was talking about the 'massively gay crush' as the last chapter was titled. He had thought about it for a little bit, but then his mind was filled with fun things like cupcakes and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

"Kind of," Ralph said, wiping away the drool that had maybe slipped out of his mouth when he was thinking about the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. He really wanted some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. "But then I started thinking about ice cream."

"Would you possibly think about it harder if I gave you some ice cream?"

"Yes."

* * *

"Don't shoot until you can read the grossly overestimated 'good for you' words on the front of the box," the cereal killer instructed. Piggy nodded and got a tighter grip on his water gun, which was filled with watered-down ketchup, because everyone knows that ketchup is deadly to most cereals.

Unfortunately, because Piggy screws up everything he ever tries to do, he missed the Trix box entirely.

"Damn it [insert Piggy's real name here]!" the cereal killer yelled. Fortunately, the cereal killer was very practiced in the art of cereal killing and managed to get the cereal. "You suck."

* * *

**And here we go. :)**


	13. Screwing with Stories, Thanks to Maurice

"It's time we took you to the Cereal Killer Academy," the cereal killer said. Piggy decided that this was probably a good idea, because he really sucked at cereal killing. "They'll teach you valuable skills like being able to freaking hit the cereal when it's right in front of you."

The cereal killer may have been a little angry with Piggy for missing the Trix.

"What do you do there?" Piggy asked. "Can they do eye surgery so that I don't have to wear glasses all the time?"

"Yeah. You could ask one of the many mad scientists to do it. The Mad Scientist Academy is just across the road."

"I think I'll do that!"

Three hours later, Piggy walked out of the Mad Scientist Academy. His glasses were gone and he could see perfectly. They had also taken the liberty of cutting off all of his excess fat. And also they turned him bright pink, as to 'better blend in with the bright colors of unhealthy cereals.'

Piggy wasn't so sure about this last thing, but his cereal killer friend had applauded the mad scientists on their innovative thoughts.

"Now you're ready for your first day at the cereal killer academy," the cereal killer, who we'll call Micah because Micah's a cool name, said. "Don't worry. You'll fit right in. Except the fact that you have bright pink skin. That's never been done before."

There was an awkward pause, and then Micah continued.

"Usually they turn them green."

* * *

Bill didn't get it.

He'd confessed. He'd gotten Ralph ice cream. He'd taught Ralph how to be _cool, _god damn it, and Ralph just wasn't returning his feelings. Bill didn't know what he was doing wrong.

And now Ralph had fallen asleep, a little bit of ice cream on his face, the bowl upside-down on the floor.

Bill winced. Someone really should clean that up, but he sure as hell wasn't going to. He was cool. Cool guys didn't have to clean stuff up. Ralph wouldn't have to clean it up, either.

Screw it. He was going to wake Ralph up and ask for an answer right then. He shook Ralph's shoulder, and after a little bit of muttering and Bill patiently waiting, Ralph was awake.

"Ralph," Bill said. "I would really like an answer."

"Bill…" Ralph trailed off. "I'm too tired to-"

"Please give me an answer," Bill said. He took off his sunglasses, to show how sincere he was being.

"You look a lot different with your sunglasses off," Ralph observed. "Less cool and more cute."

Bill turned red. "T-that's not the point," he said.

"Well…" Ralph trailed off. "Can't I just put off answering you until the end of this fanfiction and then once we get to the end of the fanfiction I give you an answer depending on the author's mood?"

"That's not nice," Bill muttered. "I even took off my sunglasses to show how sincere I am."

"…Do we have any more ice cream?"

* * *

Robert ended up carrying Percival on his back, because Percival was being a baby and didn't want to walk anymore. They came across what looked like the same story hole as Maurice had gone into. "Want to go into this story hole?" Robert asked Percival. He actually didn't care about Percival's answer, which was 'I want to go hoooome.'

Robert set Percival down, then shoved him into the story hole. He followed.

It was like… well, it was like a Wal-Mart. They showed up in an area that was filled with items that proclaimed 'GIRL ON THE ISLAND' and 'SLASH' and 'AFTER THE ISLAND.' Robert decided that this area was really weird and that they probably should get out of there. He grabbed Percival and ran, until they ended up in another area. There was a half-eaten chocolate bar and what looked like spilled red Kool-Aid, but was probably blood.

"I have the weirdest feeling that Maurice was here…" Robert muttered. He grabbed the chocolate bar and absentmindedly took a bite out of it. He disappeared immediately. Percival screamed and ran away.

The next thing he saw was a pair of shoes. He needed new shoes, so he put them on.

And disappeared into the world of The Long Walk.

* * *

"Can you _please_ be Jar Jar Binks?"

"No. He sucks."

"_Please_?"

Sam was getting very fed up with Eric's refusal to actually play the damn game. All he wanted were those stupid coins and Sam was stuck being all the stupid people. And when he was a stupid people who couldn't defend himself, Eric killed him. Over and over and over.

"You be him."

"Eric, I was all the other people!"

"I don't care."

"Damn it, Eric," Sam muttered. He turned into Jar Jar Binks – luckily he could jump away before Eric started killing him. First Eric had gotten to be Obi Wan Kenobi and now he was making Sam be everyone else. Eric was the goddam padawan, not him. He was currently a Jedi master, not Eric.

Being the responsible one sucked.

* * *

Maurice was having fun, stalking all the boys from Trinity, when Robert showed up. "Oh! Hello, Robert!" Maurice chirped. "Did you find Story Wal-Mart, too?"

"_You_."

"Well, yes," Maurice said. "I'm stalking boys from this high school because they're all freaking out about some weird chocolates. This book seems to be all about how conform or society will kill you. I really should pick it up if I get out of here."

"We had to read it for school," Robert said. "The Chocolate War. It has a sequel in which everyone goes psycho."

"That sounds fun," Maurice said. "Well, wanna join me? I'm stalking Archie Costello and Obie right now. I ship them."

"Wha- you know, I'm not even going to ask," Robert muttered.

Being the responsible one sucked.

* * *

Simon had become good friends with the boy that had told him that he was in Maine. The boy's name was Mark, and they were going to go kill some vampires with some guy that was definitely _not _Rob Lowe. Or the guy that had played him in the first miniseries, but let's face it, Rob Lowe or David Soul? You gotta care more about Rob Lowe, especially when he smiles…

Okay, okay, we're getting off topic. Stop fangirling author.

Anyway. Killing vampires. By appearing in the story, Simon had screwed everything up for the vampires, because he knew what was going to happen because of Maurice's horror movie night. He'd been scared and hid most of the time, but he'd watched the end of the first 'Salem's Lot miniseries and the entire second 'Salem's lot miniseries. So, Ben had made sure that Susan stayed away from that house and Mark decided to stay away from it, too.

Maybe they could make a happy ending, even though 'Salem's Lot didn't really have that sad of an ending to begin with.

* * *

"Okay," Roger said. "I don't really understand what is going on here."

At the end of the bright tunnel was a room with many computers. Each different computer showed a different person. Hold on… why did that one show Legos?

That probably wasn't important.

"Don't you see, Roger?" Mr. Flies asked, stepping out from some conveniently placed shadows. "This is the control room."

"What is even going on."

"This is what the camp does."

"I seriously have no idea what you are trying to do. Weren't you supposed to be getting rid of our problems."

Roger was so shocked that he wasn't even using question marks.

Jack was so shocked that he was shutting up.

Wait, he'd just fallen through the floor.

What the fuck.

* * *

**And there's the thirteenth chapter of Problems! :D**

**I have no idea what I'm doing.**


	14. The Reset Button

"All you can do is watch while your friends are slowly picked off one-by-one – get away from that button."

Roger ignored what Mr. Flies was saying and pressed the big red button that said 'reset.'

And, just like that, he was back in the cabin. Jack was blasting obscure music. Bill was looking cool and texting. Ralph was pretending he wasn't a pyromaniac. Simon was playing with his (fake) pet lizard. Piggy was eating candy. Maurice was hanging upside-down from the ladder of his bunk bed and singing along with Jack's obscure music. He didn't know the words, though. He kind of sucked. Robert was there, probably, but Roger didn't notice him. Percival was stroking his cell phone and saying 'telephone… telephone… telephone…' over and over and over. Samneric were sitting in the middle of the floor, chatting aimlessly.

It was exactly as it would have been if Mr. Flies wasn't a psychopath.

The door opened and a woman walked inside. She looked very stereotypically camp counselor-y – young, tanned, and bubbly. "Hello!" she said. "So, you were sent here because you all have problems…"

Roger had the sudden urge to bash his head against the wall. Or possibly someone else's head. Or both. Simultaneously.

"At this camp, we're going to have two group therapy sessions a day, and the rest of the time will be spent doing rigorous physical exercise so that we can be both mentally and physically fit. Now, if you could sit in a circle, please…" She sat down on the floor. Samneric moved so that they were sitting beside each other instead of knee-to-knee. Maurice tried to flip off of the ladder but ended up falling and cracking his head on the floor. The woman jumped up, but Maurice was fine.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I have a thick skull."

"Figures," Roger muttered. Maurice looked at him.

"You don't even know me!"

"Yes I do," Roger said. He knew Maurice well enough to know that, if given the chance he would _violate_ Roger. "You're the creepiest person I know and if you touch me I will bash your head against the wall until you stop breathing."

Maurice looked at Roger, wide-eyed, and scooted over to join the group. Now everyone was looking at him like he was a mass murderer. Which he wasn't. Yet.

"Can you come join us, please? And dear, if you could turn down the music…" the woman said. Jack turned down his music until it was barely a whisper of totally-hipster music and Roger reluctantly joined the group. "Now. I'm Mrs. Flies!"

Roger once again had to resist the urge to bash his head against the wall.

"Let's go around the group and say our names and why we think we're here," Mrs. Flies said. "I'm Mrs. Flies and I'm here to make sure that you guys don't go Lord of the Flies on each other! You _need _adult supervision."

Roger shared an uneasy look with Bill. At least, he thought he did. He couldn't really tell with Bill's sunglasses covering half of his face, but at least he'd stopped texting. Mrs. Flies nodded to Jack to go next.

"I'm Jack Merridew and I'm here because _my parents are unaccepting bastards!" _

Everyone was extremely taken aback by this outburst. Jack was about the same color as his hair and breathing hard. It was actually quite interesting, to watch his face turn all of these different colors. Roger spent a few minutes counting the different shades of red and purple in his face.

"Well," Mrs. Flies said after a pause. "Next!"

"I'm Ralph and I'm here because my parents think I have a problem," Ralph said simply. That… was actually a fairly good way to put things.

Bill was next. Roger wondered if he was going to be as massively gay in this reset as he'd been before the reset. "I'm Bill and I'm here because my mother doesn't know who I am and I'm not even listed as a character on the Lord of the Flies archive," he said. He then pulled out his phone and started texting again.

"Please don't text during this – oh, he's not listening," Mrs. Flies sighed. She looked at Roger. Shit. He was next, wasn't he?

"I'm Roger. I'm here because I'm a sociopath," he said. "And my therapist thinks I'm bordering on psychopathy so he decided it was time to do something about it."

"I'm Maurice! I jumped off the roof! I'm on medications and they're thinking of upping my dosage! I'm a superhero!"

Everyone ignored Maurice. Mrs. Flies looked like she was regretting this.

"Percival. Telephone."

Mrs. Flies completely skipped over Robert and went straight to Samneric.

"I'm Sam-"

"And I'm Eric-"

"And we're completely dependent on each other!" they finished together, doing that creepy twin thing that ran rampant in horror movies such as 'The Shining' and 'The Harry Potter Movies.'

Harry Potter wasn't actually horror.

Fred and George just creeped Roger out.

Piggy, who was still noisily eating, pushed up his glasses. "I'm-"

"Piggy!" Ralph decided. Piggy frowned.

"No, my name is-"

"Piggy."

"No, no, that's very insulting-"

"Piggy." Now Maurice had joined it.

"I do have an actual name-"

"Piggy." And Jack.

"You don't-"

"Piggy." Bill joined in.

"MY NAME IS-"

"Piggy." Ah, what the hell. Roger joined in, too.

Piggy sighed and just went with it. "Fine. My name is… Piggy. I overeat. A lot."

"We can tell," Jack said. Piggy rolled his eyes, like he was used to this.

"Well, I think that's everyone!" Mrs. Flies said. She beamed at Roger, who shuddered and actually stood up to go bash his head against the wall until he knocked himself unconscious. "Let's try to have the best three weeks we can!"

* * *

**it's been a while**

**so**

**uh**

**how've you guys been**


	15. Bill isn't Cool

Maurice watched with slight horror as the creepy kid stood up and began bashing his head against the wall. He figured that he should probably do something, but wasn't sure what. So, he decided to warm them all of the dangers of bashing your head against a wall repeatedly.

He turned to the group. "What Roger is doing can cause _brain damage_, which is defined by as 'injury or harm, congenital or acquired, to the tissues of the brain resulting from inadequate oxygen supply, trauma, or other cau-"

"Shut up," Bill said. He put his phone in his pocket and pulled Roger away from the wall. "Group therapy is boring and the kid's a psycho. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Roger, who looked a little dazed from the 'bashing head against wall repeatedly' thing, pulled away from Bill and laid facedown on his bed. "Should we just let him do that?" Simon asked. He sounded concerned. Maurice waved a hand dismissively.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," he said. "So, what are we going to do now? Let's do something fun. Let's play tag. Let's go swimming. Oh! Idea! Let's go swimming and _play tag in the water!"_

Everyone just kind of looked at each other, and then Bill picked him up and put him in a closet. Maurice heard the door lock and sighed, slumping to the floor. This wasn't going to be fun at all. Now he was stuck in a closet while they did fun things and Roger recovered from bashing his head against the wall.

This was actually very sad.

…

After locking Maurice in the closet, Bill turned to Mrs. Flies. "So," he said. "What are we going to do?"

"Well," Mrs. Flies said. "I thought we'd go hiking today to start the session off at a nice, not-to-hard start."

"I love hiking!" Maurice screeched from the closet. They ignored him. Bill considered sound-proofing the door, because someone as cool as Bill had sound-proofing powers. He could sound-proof whatever the fuck he wanted to.

Okay, that was a lie. But Bill could block Maurice out pretty easily.

"Okay," Mrs. Flies said. "I have backpacks for all of us. They hold food, water, and other supplies. All of us are required to hike… apart from Roger, because he's injured."

"And Maurice because he's annoying," Bill said, stepping quite comfortably into the second-in-command role. Mrs. Flies looked at him. He looked at her. She looked at him. He wondered if she was really married. She looked at him. He wondered how old she was. She looked at him-

"Okay, let's just go already," Robert said. Nobody paid attention to him because Robert was boring. Not forgettable, like Bill, just incredibly boring. People remembered him. They just didn't pay attention to him. Bill would bet that _Robert's _mother had never forgotten his name. Bill would bet that if _Robert _had a girlfriend she wouldn't forget that they were dating and start going out with some other guy. Bill would bet that if _Robert _had a job his boss would remember him and wouldn't insist on him filling out an application and sitting down for an interview _every time he went for his shift._

Bill was very bitter about some facts of his life. Well, really only one fact. The fact that nobody seemed to remember him, even though he was cool. Extremely cool. He wore sunglasses. He texted all the time – okay, he didn't text because people kept forgetting who he was, he played games, lately it had been Candy Crush – and he was pretty damn hot, if he did say so himself.

It just didn't make sense.

"Are you coming?" Jack asked. Bill was torn from his inner angst. Oh. They were leaving. Well, he should probably follow them. Maybe he could become friends with Ralph, who seemed to be naturally cool and not forgettable. Maybe being around someone as not-forgettable as Ralph would make people remember _who he was._

He caught up with Ralph, who was, for some inconceivable reason, walking between Piggy and Simon. Bill shoved Piggy out of the way. Piggy fell over and rolled away somewhere. Bill didn't really care enough to pay attention. Maybe someone would get him. Maybe not. Bill didn't care.

"So," he said. "Hey."

"Who are you again?" Ralph asked. Bill sighed. "Wait, let me guess. Robert."

"No."

"Percival."

"No."

"Samneric."

"That's _two _people."

"The guy whose mom forgot his name."

"Well. Yeah."

"I forgot your name too."

"I figured," Bill sighed. "I'm Bill."

"I'm Ralph," Ralph said.

"I know- Fuck. Um. Yeah. Cool," Bill said. He was fairly certain that he was bright red. "Look over there. No. Fuck. Um. Bye."

Bill decided that he wasn't coming on this stupid hike anymore.

…

Roger laid on his bed with a pounding headache that Maurice's screeches _weren't exactly helping _for about three minutes before he got up and let Maurice out. Maurice responded by tackle-hugging him. Roger inadvertently screamed a little. Maurice held him to the ground, practically smothering him with affection. Roger wriggled, trying to get free.

The door slammed and Roger paused 'try-to-get-away-from-Maurice' to look and see who it was. It was Bill. He looked extremely embarrassed and, after nodding to them, took out his phone and started texting.

Maurice finally got off of him and Roger debated locking himself in the closet. He decided against it, however, and instead sat on his bed and contemplated the similarities between this world and the last. Maurice was still attempting to be affectionate with him, which was bad. Mr. Flies was now Mrs. Flies, and she seemed to be sane, at least, so that was good.

It was just too early to tell if this world would be as horrifying (and weird) as the last or if it would just be a normal camp.

For some reason, Roger had a feeling it would go the horrifying and weird route.

* * *

**hey look it hasn't been three months and i have updated hooray hello**


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